A Morbid Pattern
by Scarlet Secret
Summary: Bellatrix contemplates and Dumbledore reeps his revenge upon the remaining sisters.


A Morbid Pattern.  
  
The two women that were sat in the warmth of Malfoy Manor were both grieving for their husbands. Both Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange hadn't really cared for their husbands, but it was still a hard blow.  
  
So they sat, silently mourning their men and their sisters. They were far more cut up about the latter. The Black sisters placed a very high value on loyalty and they had broken those bonds forever by killing their family in cold blood.  
  
Narcissa, sporting a shiny new eye-patch courtesy of Minerva Mcgonagall, was worried for her son. Her darling Draco was now reaching adulthood and she wouldn't be able to stop him damning himself by joining the Death Eaters if it was his wish.  
  
Then again, perhaps her son would not be a carbon copy of his father and would choose the right path. And then again house elves may fly.  
  
Bella's grief was deeper. As everybody expected she didn't give a damn about what happened to her husband, but her family...  
  
She counted them through her head.  
  
Regulus, dead. (Didn't really care for him.) Sirius, dead. (By my hand...) Andromeda, dead. (Why was SHE a threat, we could have left her alone.) Constance, dead. (I could have saved her, if only I'd been quicker.) Tonks, dead. (So young, so very young.)  
  
She had never really known her niece, she had thought she wasn't part of the real family, but she was. She had never been a true Black though, she was too good.  
  
She had never killed a member of her own family.  
  
Mother and Father, dead. (A great loss there...) Aunt and Uncle, dead. (But for a lost portrait of her Aunt.)  
  
Even the house-elf was dead.  
  
Sensing a rather morbid pattern she returned her gaze to the fire, which danced wickedly in the grate reminding her of the other winters she had spent with her sisters, playing games before the fire.  
  
She shook her head violently to get rid of the images and nearly hit herself when she discovered her cheeks had become wet.  
  
Turning to her sister (remaining sister) she guessed Narcissa had nodded off in her leather armchair as her only eye was closed. Ignoring the light breathing she attempted to sleep herself, but found she was incapable.  
  
'Incapable of everything.'  
  
"Cissa...?"  
  
She was still asleep. But Bellatrix was sure she had heard somebody speak, they weren't alone.  
  
'All of your family have died one after the other. How long did you think you would last in this war.?'  
  
It was in her head. Her mind was talking to her. She had finally flipped.  
  
'Maybe you are not so stupid.You outlived several members of my staff after all. Including my Deputy-head.'  
  
Dumbledore.  
  
"Leave me alone.!!"  
  
Her voice echoed around the room and from every direction she heard herself shouting. It stirred Narcissa.  
  
"Bella...what...?"  
  
Her words were caught in her throat as the fire erupted, engulfing Bellatrix in its red hot flames.  
  
Bella's screams could have woken the dead and Narcissa was sure they must have as her sister continued to shriek deafeningly.  
  
Thinking quickly Narcissa opened the French windows to the thick layer of snow outside, exited to make sure nobody was around, then remembered nobody came to visit anyway. When she turned around to beckon Bella out she found the door closed.  
  
She fell against the glass pitifully as her legs stiffened beneath her. She hit the snow with a soft thump and although she tried to move, it was in vain.  
  
Narcissa returned her eye to her sister inside, now writhing on the floor as her skin turned black. Letting her tears fall slowly into the snow she saw Bella cease to move and knew it could only mean one thing.  
  
Bellatrix was dead.  
  
Averting her eyes she thought of her situation. She was paralysed, in the snow, in thin robes. Nobody was coming and she had no wand. She couldn't scream. Even if she could, she wouldn't. For the people she killed this was justice.  
  
She was trapped to die a slow death, forced to think about what she had done until life left her body. And she was alone.  
  
They were always fire and ice, ironic really. Bella had been burnt to a cinder from the inside and Narcissa was frozen on the outside. 


End file.
